the singles
by Tessie13
Summary: Because he's just as annoying as she remembers him to be, but she'll still save him a few dances because — even after all the years and odds against them — she knows they still have that mutual feeling of attraction —- AustinAlly TrishDez
1. Chapter 1

_the singles_

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_"we all spend so much time not saying what we want, because we know we can't have it. and because it sounds ungracious, or ungrateful, or disloyal, or childish or banal. or because we are so desperate to pretend that things are okay, really, that confessing to ourselves they're not looks like a bad move. go on, say what you want...whatever it is, say it to yourself. the truth will set you free. either that or it'll get you a punch in the nose. surviving in whatever life you're living means lying, and lying corrodes the soul, so take a break from the lies for just one minute."_

_― a long way down by nick hornby  
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Ally plops down in the wooden chair, smiling through her tiredness. She's expected this day for years, and now that she's living it, she's completely over the moon. She absentmindedly fiddles with the flowers sitting on the white table next to her, wondering which bridesmaid they belong to. Her fingers caress the delicate light orange petal, admiring how the shade of the sunset and white swirl together, making it look like icing on a cupcake.

Ally turns back from the bouquet, looking at the other three girls that are currently running around looking like chickens. She takes a deep inhale, for once enjoying the smell of hairspray and curling irons burning hair, so it will stay in ringlets. She stands up and smoothes down her satin dress, her heels clicking as she walks to one of the many full length mirrors. Her hands re-tie the silk black ribbon that wraps around her waist for the tenth time today, and her vision wandering down her reflection. Her wide eyes stare back, full of energy. The thin sized strap of the dress is in a halter style, creating a v-neck lined with lace. From the ribbon up, the dress is simple satin, gleaming in the light of the room. From the ribbon down, it's cascading lace in ruffles, stopping just above her knee. She twirls, seeing the porcelain flooring reflect the red of her number.

She smiles again, satisfied with her dress at last. As she stalks back to the other girls, the wooden door blocking the bride from the rest of them screeches open, revealing a very unraveled looking Trish.

"Ally," she whines in a worried voice, running her hands over the crown of her head. Ally sighs, and rushes to her side. She fixes the veil, and guides her distressed friend to the chair she was sitting in a few minutes prior. Ally tells her to sit still, and calls over Eliza, another bridesmaid, to give Trish a massage. She checks the time on her watch; twelve short minutes before the traditional march would ring through the church.

In an impulsive decision, she runs to her small black clutch, grabbing the orange capsule from its contents. She rushes back to the heavy breathing women in the chair, squatting in front of her, so they were looking eye to eye.

"I have anxiety pills. I know you didn't want to have to take meds for your wedding, but they'll take your nerves away in minutes," she says in a cooing voice, shaking the petite bottle slightly.

Trish culls in another deep inhale, and shakes her head. "I don't need to be on something to know he's the right guy," she says, her regular confidence ringing through; not as much as normal, though, of course.

Ally's smile turns lopsided, seeing her best friend act like herself. She checks the time again, though, and suddenly a prickling feeling is setting over her skin. Trish must sense her friend's sudden uneasiness, and know why it was caused, because she tenses up herself.

"Ten minutes, everyone!" Ally yells out, causing the three other girls in the room to turn and make their way out the door, after spraying on more perfume, and fluffing out their hair. She stands behind her best friend, as she stands and maneuvers to the closest full length mirrors. Ally pushes the curls that fall down her back forward, causing them to fall down her chest instead, and then locking the pulled up half of hair with a few more bobby pins, and non-scented hair spray. Ally dos a roll of her index finger, signaling for Trish to spin. She does so, not slipping once, impressing the maid of honor.

"You look beautiful," she breaths out in awe, her eyes trailing over every bit of the bride. "He won't be able to keep his hands off of you," she adds with a wink.

Trish looks down into her hands, blushing. "He's your brother, Ally. You shouldn't think like that," she says, brushing off the compliment; she's grown to detest them, unless they come from her husband-to-be.

Ally laughs, tilting her head back while she does so. She links her arm through Trish's, and they make their way out of the room, grabbing the last two bouquets off the table.

"But you're my best friend, so it doesn't matter," Ally says in response, as she un hooks their arms, and gives a good luck hug to her raven haired friend. "You'll be fine, sweetie. You both love each other more than anything else," she says reassuringly, stepping out of the way of Mr. De la Rosa.

Ally coordinates the wedding court, telling who to walk out and when. "Just like the rehearsal dinner, guys," she blows out, casually tucking a strand out hair behind her ear as she scribbles notes down on a clip board.

"Um, hi," a voice says to her, just as she was turning around to go check with the actual wedding planner to make sure they both have up to date schedules, and everything is perfectly coordinated.

She spins around on her heels, having to move her head back as she sees the figure asking for her attention is much closer than she expected, "Hi. What do you need?" She says sweetly, standing on her toes to look over his shoulder to the planner; she manages to steal a glance at him as she does so. He's wearing the black suit and orange-fading-into-red tie, so she knows immediately he's a part of the court.

He sends a smirk down to her, but nervously strokes the back of his neck with his palm. "Um, well, I'm the best man, but I don't know where I'm supposed to be."

Her vision snaps from the wedding planner in the distance, to the man in front of her. Her eyes narrow into slits naturally, feeling emotions boil in her insides. She slaps him on the arm — she has this weird feeling like she's done this action a million times before, but it's fleeting and she doesn't have time to dwell on it — without a trace of sympathy, a cracking noise ringing through the stiff air in return.

"_This better be some joke Dez set up," _She hisses at him venomously, turning on her heel away from the blond man.

"Hey!" He quipped, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. He tried to ignore the fact that he felt his palms start to perspire from the connection, and that he couldn't hear his own voice due to the fact that his heart was beating blatantly in his ear drum, as he continued, "This isn't a joke!"

"Well, what the hell!" She spat, running both hands through her hair, but then her eyes enlarged even more — if that was possible; he didn't even believe her brown orbs had the capability to broaden any more than they already were — once it accrued to her she was messing up her carefully styled chestnut mane.

"Why didn't you do what you did last night?" Ally says, suddenly feeling the need to cry, giving a shove to his — well toned, she might add — torso that almost knocked him to the ground.

"I wasn't there last night!" He says in defense, crossing his arms protectively over his chest after he regained balance and brushed off his trousers.

"WHAT! Shit, this isn't good, holy shit, why weren't you there! You're just going to ruin everything, you now that? This is my best friend's wedding, what the—follow me, Jesus!" She breathed out in hysterics, marching towards the colossal church doors, trapping his wrist in a death grip when she realized he wasn't trailing her.

"Where are we going?" He cut into her never ending monologue full of questions, which was starting to blur together in his head, making him feel dizzy and numb as he tried to sort through all her words.

"I'm taking you to the back entrance, so you can sneak in next to Dez, like we had planned! Me and Trish were supposed to meet you guys at the altar! Oh, god, this door better be open, or else..." The 5'5" woman ranted on, moving her grasp on the gentleman's wrist down to his actual hand, lacing their fingers together.

His face glowed, but he squeezed the velvet fingers that his own were currently caressing. He almost felt awkward, holding hands with a complete stranger, but there is this vibe coming from her that makes it seem like they know each other — like they know each other _well._ It's that vibe that's telling him they aren't _complete_ strangers that eliminates any of the equivocal traces in the air.

"Why can't I just walk down with you? Like all the other groomsmen?" He stops in his tracks, running a hand threw his tangled tresses as his eye brows knit together.

"That's if this door doesn't open," she answers, her eyes starting to lose their immense size, her pupils starting to go back to a normal dilation. Ally scooped air with her right hand, signaling for him to come along — since he had dropped her hand when he came to a standstill — turning to finish the adventure to the back of the quaint blue church that sat on the outskirts of an off-map village. He followed hesitantly, missing the feelings that were brought by her fragile fingers tangled in his steady ones.

Once he whirled around the corner, he rested his whole frame against the edge of the building, and stared intently at the mystery girl as she yanked harshly on the white door that appeared to be locked.

"Well," she said, rotating to rest herself against the door, panting lightly with closed eyes that angled up at the sky. "We have to go back around."

He chuckled and started stalking to the front of the wooden structure, slightly making out the sound of her heels fumbling around in the rather high grass as she attempted to catch up to him.

"Wait for me!" She exasperated, throwing her arms on his back, her panting beginning to increase, — from what he assumed to be not from the minuscule amount of physical exertion she had just exemplified, but her growing nerves over the ceremony — and he answered her with another chuckle, spinning around to face her. He slipped his hands into hers, and swung them side to side.

"Everything's fine, sweetheart," he said with one of his infamous winks. He oscillated forward to walk again, but continued to drag her with both of their hands connected. She giggled, the sun staining her hair with streaks of gold as she tilted her head back with her eyes closed.

"If you say so," Ally finally answered right before they opened the doors to the church to renter the ceremony. Before they pushed open the mahogany doors, however, they shared a real moment; full of longing eyes boring into one another, mouths slightly curved up into smirks with jagged breaths being inhaled and exhaled, and most importantly, the sparks they had heard so much about all their lives — the kind they both had been secretly wishing to feel all their existence.

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It's undeniable that one of Ally Dawson's favorite part of a wedding is when the bride walks down the aisle, and then to look back at the groom; the expression of love and adoration that wipes any other emotion clean off his face. You can just tell that he's in his own world that is just for himself and her, and there's just no bringing him back to reality. Ally has attended more weddings than she can count, and she's been a part of the court far more times than what she considers plenty, but it's this one that gives her a bubbly feeling — one that is so light and airy that she's sure she's going to pass the newlyweds' cloud nine, and just shoot all the way up to ten — and it doesn't make sense to her in the least. She can't pin point a factual figure that would separate this experience from the others, but she vows that there is just a different vibe in the atmosphere.

She takes another hesitant step down the aisle, stifling giggles as Austin whispered a joke about the pastel dresses — that were much like potato sacks, he stated — all the older woman wore. She was on his arm, beaming proudly, trying her very hardest not to look up to the blond beauty or over at the crowd eyes — all those eyes that persisted on prying on the duo — but kept her gaze at the back of the room, where the grand organ sat.

"I think me walking out with you works better anyway — you walking by yourself would just look awkward," he whispered down to her while barely moving his seashell colored lips, reminding her of a professional ventriloquist.

"Don't push your luck, guy," she mumbles back in response, keeping her wide smile present, "if you've forgotten, I planned this wedding. The actual person hired did squat."

"_Squat_," he mimes back in ridicule, "who says that?"

She turns to face him for a split second — even during a split second her alarming doe eyes are able to hitch his breathing — and gives him a knowing smirk before she turns to face forward once more, "I do."

They take one more step, and realize that they are at the end of the pathway. Sighing inwardly, he kisses her hand — the protocol of a groomsmen before he takes his place behind the groom, she scolded to him once the last bridesmaid took her place in line and they started their descend down the red carpet trail — and walks slickly over to Dez, keeping an easy grin on as he patted his best friends back reassuringly.

Taking her place next to Eliza, the last bridesmaid in the line, she stared intently over at the groom's corner, trying to figure who the blond she had just met — although she just can't shake this feeling that they knew each other before, that they were close at one point — was. Her smile showed her rows of pristine teeth as it grew, watching the mystery man interact with her red headed brother — she'd always wondered how Dez and herself could ever be a part of the same family, let alone siblings. With his resplendent ocean eyes, his calm and straight locks of fire, and most importantly his stature; towering over everyone else in her network of family. Everyone else she had met, however, that she was related to had the same ski slope nose, curious chocolate eyes, wavy tresses, and were all rather short.

The classic wedding march played for what she knew would be the last time, and while everyone's gaze held the back of the room, Ally kept hers locked on her older brothers. She'd always admired how he could be so awkward, yet so charismatic, lighting up the room was in with his eccentric and random personality; but she sees right through him right now. The growing genuine smile on his face made herself beam as well, knowing that he's swelling up with love and elation, seeing the beautiful Hispanic woman making her way to him to be united in holy matrimony. Ally knows better than anyone in the room that at this very second, her older brother Dez is using every bit and piece of self control to keep from jumping up and down to squeal like a school girl.

The ceremony continued on, Trish finally being passed from her father's arm to her soon to be husbands, them both saying their vows to love each other endlessly. Once the justice of the peace asks for the rings — because, yes, this wedding was meant to be old school, by the book, and cheesy in every single way possible — and the best man is supposed to step forward, the same bleach blond man stepped forward holding two small silk boxes.

_Wait; hold up, where did he get those? Austin is supposed to have them._ She thinks with a raised eye brow, not being able to connect the dots.

Ready to start the intervention, break up this mistake and find her older brothers best friend — whom she had been close too, but unfortunately couldn't keep in contact with resulting in them not seeing each other for at least three years — she studied the fraud over with her hawk eye. She hadn't paid much attention to his appearance earlier, just the situation he was in and how it put the perfect scenario she had spent years fantasizing over in jeopardy. Taking in every one of his features with detail, she gasped inwardly.

He flashed his stare up to hers, sending her a secret smile. She can feel herself flush, and is over come by the need to fixate on her shoes. Like the smiles and gazes her best friend and brother had shared earlier — and were currently still sharing as they slide the gold bands onto one another's left ring fingers — she knew what she and Austin were experiencing was only theirs. She was living a dream of hers; to be in a world with only two people that had hearts beating as one, breathing in sync, and simply being together no matter how much space sat between them.

"You may now kiss the bride," rung through the high ceiling, enunciating the silence to a higher degree. Dez doesn't hesitate to pull the feisty woman into his arms, folding the lacy veil back and tucking any loose strands of hair behind her ears, connecting their lips with a gentleness similar to a butterflies'.

"I know pronounce you husband, and wife," the justice of the piece finishes, pausing between the husband and wife, no doubt wanting to add a dramatic effect.

Cheers and shouts are heard from all over, and after a second kiss, the newlyweds beam as they walk hand in hand down the aisle. Sparkly white confetti, grains of rice, and small silver circles are thrown at them as they trek out into the sidewalk, where everyone would gather around them to give a congratulations before driving over to the reception.

Ally meets Austin at the end of the carpet, right where he had left her. She snakes her arm into the crook of his elbow, knowing that as they walked down the aisle this time, she wouldn't waste her precious time with him staring blankly into the distance. She let her teeth gleam in the light, making her eyes crinkle from the vast smile consuming her face.

"Someone's happy," he comments as their stares hold, neither of them bothering to blink.

"More than happy," she answers biting down on her lower lip tentatively, a rose colored hue spreading shyly across her full cheeks.

"What's got you so...smiley," he decides uncertainly on the last word, raising a well maintained eye brow.

"What's not got me smiley?" She quotes him in a questioning and challenging manner, "my brothers married to my best friend, I'm about to go to a reception where all my 'older siblings' will be, my real family, and even more," she pauses to — once again, she does the seemingly impossible — let a more commodious smile take over her facial features, "I'll be seeing my brothers best friend — specifically, one of my favorite of his friends that I've been missing forever — for the rest of the night."

They are outside now, in the spacious light where they are free to roam around until the guests started to pour out to give hugs and congratulations, the official meet and greet to avoid any awkward encounters at the reception. The other three pairings from the court have to walk outside before everyone else, so they know that they have at least two more minutes of quiet and privacy before their haven will be replaced with pandemonium.

He holds a look of confusion for a moment, but then connects everything — finally realizing who the girl in front of him is — together.

"Ally!" He screeches, picking her up delicately in his arms and spinning her in circles, his arms enveloped tightly around her skinny waist. She giggles gingerly, gladly snaking her frail arms around his neck, matching his warm embrace.

"I've missed you so much," he whispers into her hair as he sets her back on the ground with care.

As she feels her Jimmy Choos — she'd grown accustomed to the sparkly heels that had the tendency to resemble stilts once she had gained a surplus of money that needed to be blown one way or another — come in contact with the rough gravel, she smiled delicately up at him, reminded of how she used to get bitter over the fact that he towers over her. Like the wedding in general, she'd spent years imagining how this particular encounter would go — him spinning her docilely around in circles behind the building the reception was being held at, as a nearby tree blew wisps of white and pearl pink flowers into her hair, him pulling them out and comparing her beauty to the sunset; hers overriding the natural wonder, of course. In fact, she has so many different scenarios carefully planned out — down to the last detail, the last second — that suddenly, the real life version is a major disappointment. Honestly, it lacked the clichés and the stars aligning in the perfect order, making his eyes open to realize that everything he's ever wanted in the world is staring back at him, starry eyed and all. Instead, it was full of awkward silence as the two tried desperately to hold gazes without blushing.

"So what have you been up to lately?" Ally asks tentatively, lacing their fingers together again in a quick, graceful flick of the wrist as they stroll down to the happy duo that were just married.

He looks down at her, a look of terror passing through his eyes before he puts on a mask of nothing. Taking two steps back almost instantaneously, he holds the hand she had held only seconds before protectively to his chest. Ally wasn't exactly sure how to take his sudden actions, but the slight cloud of confusion fogging up her thoughts did not stop her from feeling completely mortified over the fact that she had just been rejected — and rather harshly at that.

"Well, then," she said turning away from him and taking a few more steps before throwing over her shoulder, "come on, let's go."

Austin's heart came to a dull throbbing as he watches her meager form leave him in the dust. He liked the mystery of the demanding and quirky girl from their adventure earlier — when he couldn't place a name to a face and aid girl had no strings attached. He had been eager to twirl the new girl around on the dance floor, and cause giggles to escape her tightly drawn lips at some sarcastic comment during a serious point in time — perhaps during a speech, or simply a quiet period. He had even planned on the second he would pull Dez over to a corner, point her out in the sea of dancing people — Dez would do approvingly, take a sip of whatever beer he decided on for the night, and then make it clear to the blond that if he were to leave early with this exotic beauty, no offense would be taken. Only, of course, the well thought out fantasies were never to happen now. Austin's actually very ashamed of himself he couldn't place those melting caramel eyes of hers before — he'd always prided himself on the fact that he knew every single detail of those shocking irises better than anyone in the world ever could.

Walking a few paces behind her, and distinctly hearing the sound of at least two other pairings from the court trot along behind them — no doubt making their way to just-wedded couple — he ran both hands through his carefully gelled hair. He'd pictured the moment of seeing his favorite 'half-pint' — one of the many nicknames he gave her, back in the day — for the first time in years very differently. He'd imagine a tight embrace and a few girlish squeals, himself claiming how much she'd grown and how she hadn't changed a bit. They would laugh at old time inside jokes, and spend the rest of the conversations reminiscing over all their favorite memories. He'd be polite and kind, never speak or of place or rudely, and try with all his might to not be reminded — he'd always known it would be a hard task, considering how a simple look from her would bring out the honest side of himself — of how, when he used to spend the night at the Dawson house, he would lie awake, tossing and turning while conjuring up different plans to swoop into her room and dazzle her like no man ever before him did. Only now —much like his plans of spending the rest of the night with the mystery girl — all that planning and self preparation was being flushed down the toilet of nothing.

Plastering on an award winning smile, Austin reached the end of the sidewalk, stopping at the bend that led to the parking lot, where Trish and Dez had stopped themselves. He went through the normal congratulations, teasing them that they were a match made in heaven. He even went as far as doing his old handshake with Dez, after an embrace. He stood awkwardly next to Ally once they were both done foundling over their best friends, patiently waiting for the crowd erupting from the church's wide doors to disperse.

Once a few people had come and gone, driving the few miles to the reception. After hugging some old fart woman — at least, he'd called her an old fart in his mind — he snuck a glance at Ally, wondering what could possibly be going on in her mind. She — having at wonderful hawk eye of hers — felt his gaze and moved her own up to his, giving him a reassuring smile from over the old farts husbands' shoulder, for they were caught up in their own embrace. Smirking, he decided to dub the husband 'a bag of bones' so he could have a matching nickname with his wife.

In that smile of Ally's, though, he saw something from earlier. Something that had always been a cautious territory for himself, given the circumstances. Never the less — just as always — it coated his whole figure with warmth and just that feeling of _okay_, like nothing horrid or devastating could ever reach him in this new land — the only thing was that it wasn't actually that new. He'd known that he'd been in this state before — where he's all dimples and teeth staring down at her while she's fixated over something completely unrelated to him, only, there was so much more to it than that. He's stunned by the fact — still amazed by it after all this time to get used to it; he's known this girl since she was in the cradle, for crying out loud — that only she can make him feel like the world is actually at peace and at his finger tips. Likes he's actually _himself_ and that no ones judgment could ever stop him — except her of course, because she's in this state of invincibility with him, and her opinion is the world to him.

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Ally, over the years, has come to except the fact that she will forever be an awkward individual. Only so many people on this Earth are blessed with the skill of charisma, and the rest just kind of come to learn it by studying others, but it's the one lesson she would ever get an F in. She's tried, oh how she's tried to be a fluent conversationalist with a random stranger at a random party, but every time without fail her foot finds a way to get in her mouth, and then she's poorly trying to patch the hole she's created. Ally has just come to terms to living for those moments, because at the end of the day, all those happy minutes blur together into nothing, but the embarrassing, awkward moments are the stand outs that she'll be able to laugh about and carry for years to come.

So, she guesses fate wants to give her another memorable token, as she slides into next to Austin in a barren limo, watching the rest of the court mingle with the remaining guests on the sidewalks. Ally had strictly told them all that it was time to pile in the black stretched out car, that they needed to get to the Bed-in-Breakfast styled hotel that had graciously offered up their dining hall as a wedding reception space. The laminated index cards that held the itinerary by every fifteen minutes that she had handed out to every person in the 'behind the scenes' part of the wedding clearly stated that the court needed a spare half hour or so to get situated into their hotel rooms, and make any last minute adjustments to their appearances.

None the less, she was left alone in a romantic limo with the Austin Moon, and neither of them had anything better to do than make sure their lines of vision never come in contact with each other. Thinking over every single possible conversation starter, she sighs and bites down her bottom lip as she turns to him.

"This is so incredibly stupid. We haven't seen each other in years, so the only possible way we can come up with to catch up is silence?" Ally lays out flatly, her attitude clearly evident in her shinning eyes.

Austin, in response, laughs lightly and casually throws an arm over her shoulders. "You're so right."

"When am I not?" She answers sarcastically, trying to retrieve the natural banter they've always had. "Anyway, what have you been up too? Are you still at Juilliard?"

Austin contorts his facial expression, showing his discomfort with the topic. "Yeah, I am. For one more year."

Turning her head to the side subconsciously with curiosity, her eyebrows almost forming one gigantic brow as they scrunch closer together, "You don't sound very happy about it."

"No, no, it's not that! It's just," he trails off, zeroing in on nothing in particular as he turns his head to the right.

"It's just not what, Austin?" Ally interjects softly, sitting up straighter.

"I'm studying my music with so many awesome and talented kids, and it's great, but somehow, I feel like I belong in California, not New York," He quipped with a painstaking sigh, connecting their gazes once more.

Simpering, she pivoted her body to face him in a more comforting manner. "I remember arguing it out with you: Cali or College? College is more important right now, Austin. California will still be there this time next year."

"I know that, but like you always said. You only get so many chances at making it, and let's face it, image is everything. No label wants to sign a thirty something year old man."

"If he has talent, they will," Ally said with force, but then eased her intensity, "and you are talented, Austin."

Giving her a diminutive smile, he nodded his head. "What about you? Dez never mentioned if you got into Juilliard or not."

Biting on her smile, she bobbed her head up and down. "I got in, but I didn't attend this year."

His eyes widening, he shifted his whole frame forward in shock. "What! But, it's like, your dream school! Why not?"

Giggling at his antics she replied, "I did a Broadway show instead. I signed my name on an audition form while I was pretty tipsy," earning raised eye brows from Austin, "but by the time I got the call to set up an actual date, it was too late. I wound up getting the part though; a lead. I made a small debut, but they weren't keen on me coming back without more experience."

He stared at her with a mix of disbelief, shock, and awe paying across his features. "I thought you had stage fright," is all he manages to get out as a sweep of confusion comes into play as well.

"I did, but," she sighed and shrugged, giving a lopsided smirk, "something just clicked, and I realized that if I think I did my best, then there's nothing else I can do. They'll always be someone else out there to prove your talent too, anyway, if you get rejected."

"This is just too amazing, Ally. What was Broadway like? I can only imagine."

"It's all rehearsals and diets," she answered, rolling her eyes, "and stuck up actors and, I swear to god, everyone has a melt down with a producer at some point. They expect perfection, and that's just not possible until the actual show night."

He doesn't respond, just gives her a look that tells her to keep going.

"But other than those minor details, it's," she says, closing her mahogany orbs as she contemplates an appropriate answer, "breathtaking."

Both sighing in content and longing, their absorption within one another is broken as the limo's door is aggressively yanked open, revealing a disheveled looking bridesmaid and her groomsmen.

"Hi," Eliza breathes out exasperatedly, ducking as she climbs to the seating all the way in the front. Garrett — the groomsmen she had walked with and was currently following her to the front seating area — gave the two a head nod and half wave, which they hesitantly responded to in a similar manner.

"Hey," Ally answers after a brief period of quiet passes, fiddling with her hands to keep her attention busy.

Rachel and Kirk come in next — more people from the court — then Carrie and Jack pile in before the married couple themselves. Everyone breaks into cheers and claps as Trish and Dez get situated, smiling wide smiles and Carrie hands them each a glass of the complementary champagne set out.

"This early in the party?" Trish asks skeptically, holding the wine glass far away from herself.

"This is the exclusive before party, sweetie," Carrie says with a beam, handing everyone else a glass themselves.

Ally bobs her head approvingly, gladly taking the crystal glass, "A toast to Trish and Dez! Long live Trez!" she says, and before chugging down the liquid she clanks her own glass against everyone else's.

"You guys are all too much," Dez says once his drink is gone.

"Is it a crime that we love you?" Ally answers him, doing that one of a kind voice only she can pull off, and only during sarcastic questions.

The ride is short to the reception, but it seems as if it drags on for hours, what with all the laughs and smiles the manage to pack in with it. Trish has had a lot of happy and keepsake moments with all the people in the limo, but she's sure that she's never been so jubilant as she was in that moment — with her husband's arms securely looped over her waist, mumbling promises to escape the crowd of people eventually during the celebration to get some quality couple time under his breath to her, with everyone in the world that has had an actual impact on who she has become today surrounding her with genuine smiles and wishes of luck that reach a place that others just simply _can't. _Trish is just so sure that this is what true bliss is — not any of that fairy tale junk that they feed you as kids, because that just simply doesn't happen in the real world; but she had no doubt in her vivacious mind that this is close as you can get to a princess moment.

Once they pull into the lot behind the hotel, Ally leads a group in through the already ajar back door, explaining that their belongings were brought up to their rooms prior to their arrival, thanks to the official wedding planner dropping off their overnight luggage bags when she herself arrived. Just as the brunette is ordering the designated couple of the night to come out of the limo, Austin grabs her and pulls her close, whispering to her how they could use some time by themselves. He sends her to the group she was in charge of leading, winking as he shut the car door.

The only two left aren't exactly in a state of mind where they can produce sentences that will make sense or even be of importance, so they sit in silence for a few minutes, drinking in each other's company — because really, when it comes down to it, it's all they need to survive. Pushing the cascading curls off of her shoulder, Dez nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck and busies himself by planting butterfly kisses down her neck.

Trish can feel the electricity she felt when they were just naive teens — she's reminded of the days they spent in random fields or secluded beaches, hiding from the bustling city life and just the world in general. They'd never enjoyed the harsh judgment their coupling got in the beginning, so they often took every chance they could to drop off of the face of the Earth and disappear into one another. She would sit in his lap — the only place she ever felt truly protected from the dangers imposing on her — while he would leave a trail of kisses down her velvet-skinned neck, whispering nonsense promises of truly escaping everything and running away together. He'd tell her that he loved her, and she would make a sassy remark of how she never knew him to be a romantic — but one look in his starry eyes and she would tell him that she loved him back with all of her heart.

Letting out a sigh of content, she let the memories subside, reminding herself that the present is so much better than those half hearted times. He felt her tremble as her planted the last kiss, and cupped her face with so much delicacy she compared it to that of a flower petal. Pressing their mouths together gently, he whispered more words against her pouty lips to her; and it's the first time she never feels the need to doubt them, because — let's face it — she's never been completely comfortable with her appearance and despite her normal confidence, she had an extremely low self esteem on the inside.

He whispered, "I love you," and she smiled, finally excepting the fact that he would forever and always belong to herself and only herself.

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A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to satrt off by thanking everyone for the loads of support I've been getting! It means so much and I love you all way to much for my own good :) Anyways, sorry I haven't posted in awhile, but I've been facing so many plot bunnies, and I keep choosing the wrong ones to write, so its really hard for me! This will be a two-shot, but I am not uploading the second half (although it is finished) until next friday, unless I have an over whelming demand to have it up ASAP. **Dedicated to WorthyPurpleCrayon**, since her birthday was the 23rd :) So sorry I didn't have it up by then! I am a **disclaimer**.

please **don't** favorite or alert without reviewing.


	2. Chapter 2

_the singles : part two_

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_"yes, I decided, a man can truly change. the events of the past year have taught me much about myself, and a few universal changes. i learned, for instance, that while wounds can be inflicted easily upon those we love, it's often much more difficult to heal them. yet the process of healing those wounds provided the richest experience of my life, leading me to believe that while i've often overestimated what i could accomplish in a day, i underestimated what i could do in a year. bur most of all, i learned that it's possible for two people to fall in love all over again, even when there's been a life time of dissapointment between them."_

_ — nicholas sparks, the wedding_

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Austin stood outside the oak door with the gold plate reading 304, knowing that she was just behind it. His mind traveled back to when they had made it through the back door, she had turned to him and slapped his arm with aggression.

_"We're on a tight schedule," she had hissed to him, "and they don't have time to be alone at the moment."_

That was the last he had heard from her, and he wasn't instructed — like the others — by her to where the main dining hall was, or given a room key that she had been mailed weeks prior so they could avoid the fiasco of the front desk. The rest of the court was given a smile and plastic cards, her telling them that the cards were in fact the room passes and had charging abilities, in case they wanted to order room service or go souvenir shopping. They had all been paired into rooms, so the only plausible explanation he could come up with was the fact that she simply didn't give him his own shiny red plastic card because they were going to share a room.

Taking in a deep breath and bracing himself for whatever rage she might unleash on himself, he carefully pounded on the door with three simple knocks.

Much to his surprise, the door flew open in seconds, revealing Ally herself pulling off one of her sky high heels, trying to balance on one foot as she did so. The corners of her mouth quickly turned down, though, as she realized who was standing in front of her. She forcefully attempted slamming the door in his face, but his reflexes were too quick for her.

"What do you want," she snarled, moving further into the room as he shut the door behind himself.

"I'd like to know where I will be sleeping tonight," he said in a convincingly fake chipper voice, propping an elbow against the wall and crossing one leg behind the other.

"How 'bout under a bridge," she says in a suggestive voice, her back still facing him.

"Can I have the nice Ally back? You know, the one that doesn't talk and act like a total bit—"

"If you value your life you won't finish that sentence," she says whipping around, walking straight up to him, her eyes burning in the dim lighting with a fire he's only seen once before, many years ago.

"—ch," he answers with a conceited smirk, taking his elbow off the wall and crossing his arms over his chest in a challenging manner.

"Bad decision," she growels out, raising a hand to his cheek. She almost slaps him, too, but once again his cat like reflexes are just too fast for her. He twists her whole arm around her head, spinning her around as well — reminding her of the police men in Law & Order, and how they almost always perform that exact same maneuver on every squirming criminal in just about every episode.

"Why are you so worked up," he murmurs down to her, her shallow breaths fading into a full on pant. Austin lets her go with a slight shove, annoyance and concern clearly evident in his harsh gaze.

Feeling her eyes prickle with irritation, Ally knows she's reached the brink of tears once again. "Because nothing is different, Austin!" She sobs in a quiet voice, slowly falling to the floor to sit Indian-style as she holds her face in her palms.

Scrunching his face up in confusion, he moves in front of her and slips down to the floor, taking her hands off of her angelic face and into his own. Realizing that tears were spilling over her mascara-coated eyelashes, he felt his heart break slightly. "What do you mean?" He questions while squeezing both of her hands.

Yanking her hands out of his grasp, she wipes away the tears currently streaming down her cheeks; she inhales sharply, willing the scent of lilacs to calm her over reactive system down. "I thought that by now, after you grew up a little and got a taste of real life, you'd actually listen to someone besides yourself. Well, guess what? I'm sick and tired of being the girl that everyone over looks and ignores. I want to be heard, but no one ever pays enough attention to actually listen, and I'm really, really tired of coping with that_."_

Moving closer to her and caressing her cheek, he starts to tell her, "I listen, Ally, I—"

"No you don't, Austin! No you don't and you never will, and it's not okay that I always have to settle for that," she shouts, standing up while letting a few more tears slip away.

Balling his hands into fists, he stands up as well, getting right up in her face. "Well, then, I'm sorry that you have to _settle_ for me. I hope one day you'll find someone that can _listen_ to you and treat you like the demanding, obnoxious, spoiled little princess that you think you are."

Biting down on her lip, while turning her head to the side and shaking it as if to imply he doesn't understand she seals her eyes tight and let's herself cry. Walking back to the door, she opens it and points a hand to tell him to get out with a pained expression. For a split second, she can see his eyes soften — she knows that he realized that he hurt her in a way very few people can; in that way that cuts so deep and burns with all the fire in the world — but it's gone to fast, and it turns back to the raw rage as he stalks out the door.

Before she shuts it, she runs a hand through her hair and looks at the floor. "You know, Austin, I can still remember when I was sincerely happy," she breaks her small speech to give a small smile that vanishes as quickly as it came, "and most of the time, it was because of you. But now all I feel is...emptiness. And let me tell you, it hurts so much more than pain." And with that, his face is met with the oak he had spent his time staring at just minutes before.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he hits the wall hard with his left fist, and fights back his own tears. He's sure that he's feeling at least a part of what she is — that exasperating feeling that you're breaking down, but in a way only one person can manage to make you, because Austin Moon _does not _cry, under any circumstances, but once again she manages to make him.

Ally almost falls to the floor again, wanting to succumb to the sweet state of done — done with every weight that makes her drown when the waters get a little too rough. Crossing her arms over her chest, believing that if she squeezes hard enough she'll be able to keep herself from breaking, she runs into the bathroom and stares at the wild girl that gawks back at her from the mirror.

"This isn't the time or place to break down," she cries out, accessing the damage done to her carefully applied make up. Blotting on more mascara — paying enough attention this time to use water proof — and smearing different concealers, foundations, and blushes over her tear stained face, she tries to decide if she was just imagining the spark — the one everyone used to comment on, back during her glory days — she saw earlier in her eyes.

The irony of it all, though — once again the seemingly flawless and perfect Barbie doll girl cracks, showing off all the baggage and damage that the façade so cleverly hides. When she's supposed to be chasing down shots with her now sister-in-law/ best friend, she stands lonely in her and one of her old friend's room. Once again, she falls apart when dawn was finally starting to break.

Slipping on the black flats she had brought for the dancing portion of the night, she decides it's time to conquer the demon and go out to plaster on more fake smiles, show off more dimples and gush over how _lucky_ she is and how her life is just so _amazing_ right now, that she feels like she _lives_ on cloud nine.

_Yeah, right._ She thinks with a snort.

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Austin had always considered himself a party man. He loved the fumes of alcohol resting in the air, in people's breath. The different girls that wore the skimpiest of outfits as they grinded against a complete stranger, showing off the divine sway of their hips. The music that vibrated the whole room, drowning out any conversation with its increasing volume. He loved when he stepped out onto the dance floor, twisting and turning with the rhythm to earn the crowds approval.

Suddenly, however, with three people chatting his ear off about topics he didn't care about in the least, and another two asking where Ally has gone — they claimed that she was last seen with him, so he should obviously know where she was currently located — he wondered how he could ever stand the hot, crowded atmosphere.

"I don't know, and I don't care!" He finally proclaimed, marching across the room to his seat.

"Someone is in a bad mood," Trish said with one of her infamous looks of 'what's your problem'?, "and do you happen to have anything to do with Ally's absence?" she continued with a narrowing of eyes.

"How should I know, and why should I care?" He snapped, taking a sip out of his water glass as he scoped out the room for a girl worthy enough to dance with himself.

"Aw, trouble in paradise, sweetheart?" Trish quipped in a sarcastic tone, making her eyes go wider as she pouted out her lips in a mock sympathy look.

Sneering, he stood up from the table. "She overreacted to nothing, as usual," Austin said as he pushed in his wooden dinning chair.

"I swear to god, Austin, she's been going through a rough time and if you hurt her—"

"If anything I said hurt her she needs to grow a backbone and get over herself," he snaps back at the Latina, his mouth going dry as he thought of hurting the delicate porcelain doll he made Ally up to be.

"I don't care about what you said; I care about how she took it. And by the sounds of, it's not Ally that needs to get over herself," she retorted with narrowing of eyes and clenched jaw.

"Do you want me to go find her or something?" He asked her exasperatedly, slamming both hands on the white table cloth with a thud.

"No need," Dez answered, pointing to the figure behind Austin that was slowly making her way to the table as she chatted with the seemingly millions of people that begged for her attention.

Pivoting to look to where the red head had pointed, Austin momentarily felt his mouth gape at the short brunette across the room, smiling and laughing as she gladly accepted her picture being taken with a pale blond woman that was to some extent taller than her own petite size. The trails the tears had left were completely erased, the sadness in her eyes not completely extinct but covered by a cloudy haze. Wondering if this was just a front she was putting up — or if it was her legitimate behavior — he felt his feet carry himself over to where she stood.

"Austin!" she proclaimed, elbowing the small crowd forming around herself out of the way. Holding out her arms to signal the need of an embrace once she was close enough to him, he confusingly returned her hug.

"Is this your form of an apology?" He asked into her hair under his breath so no one could eves drop.

"No. Just the cliché reuniting moment Austin and Ally always deserved," she murmured back, and he could hear the cracking running underneath her words. Deciding to sustain the hug, he pulled her off the floor — much like their actual first encounter, once they realized who one another were — and spun her around in circles as he answered her.

"Are we going to forget the fight we just got into," he questioned, a little too optimistic for her liking.

Setting her back down, figuring that's what was appropriate, she shook her head slightly. It seemed to anyone else a slight twitch — possibly from hearing something intriguing, or subconscious movements — if anyone was able to even pick up on it. But the message it sent to him, it was as if she had screamed it at him with full volume.

_No._

Wishing she didn't have such a sadistic — again, something only he was picking up on, seeing as he was the only one really looking and understanding her thought process — grin plastered across her face, he held out an arm for her to link with, a tight smile adorning his features.

Beaming gratefully up at him, she snakes her skinny, non-muscular arm into the opening he was offering up. Turning slightly to throw a smile and wave — a wave that said 'see you later' — over her shoulder to the people she was socializing with prior to his abrupt visit to herself.

"We're going to be those perfect people everyone wants to be, like the old days. Okay?" She mumbles over to him, waving at the people they passed that were doing the same back at her.

Swiveling down to study her — to actually read into the emotions she was expressing, hoping to dig underneath that mask she was so convincingly wearing and figure out what could've possibly changed her so drastically — he felt uneasy. Earlier, with the carefree, juvenile, and easy going young woman he felt like everything in his life was finally back on that straight, clear path. He felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders, and all that mattered was the two of them being together — just simply being together. Now, the beautiful girl on his arm couldn't seem more repulsive.

Kissing her hair, he whispered, "I'm not interested in being fake, Ally. Instead, we're going to be our old selves — you know, the ones that were friends and loved each other through thick and thin?"

Closing her eyes as her face fell, he wonders if he struck another nerve with her. Her face suddenly overcome by those real, genuine expressions that he knew all too well — the ones he'd so secretly loved and depended on when they were careless kids — he supposed she was caught up in some memory of the two of them being happy together. Or, maybe even one of the old group — Dez, Trish, Austin, and Ally — memories that he prayed she still had buried in her mind somewhere.

"I'd love that," she finally answered once she sat down in the chair he had pulled out for her, looking up at him with optimism and sorrow. Enjoying the fact that her eyes were slowly losing the foggy mist — though they still lacked the curious and intense sparkle — that covered the clear window they provided to her heart, he down sat next to her.

"Looks like Auslly isn't in distress, Dez," Trish told her husband from across the round table only for the four of them; the rest of the court was sitting at the table nearest to the right of them.

"Auslly?" Austin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, please," Trish dismissed with a wave of her hand, "like you've never heard that one before. For crying out loud, you guys came up with our couple name! What was it? Tez? Drish?"

"Trez," Ally pronounced as she took a long gulp from the crimson colored beverage in her crystal wine glass, staring intently down at her hands as her eyes became glassy with the memories plaguing her mind.

"Well, now that Trez got their happy ever after, when do you think Auslly's will be, Dez? The bet we had when we were younger was way off apparently," Trish continued, not realizing — or simply ignoring — the sudden change of her best friend, and the distant and dreary state she was falling back into.

"Excuse me," Ally gasped out, her wide brown irises darting all over the place as she took in shallow breaths and attempted to steady herself on both her own and Austin's chair as she stood up. Striding towards the exit, she crossed the cleared area of the room, clearly set aside as the dancing section with a hand on her forehead.

"Ah, I'll be back," Austin said as he himself moved to chase after the bombshell of a woman half jogging away from the scene.

Catching her by the arm halfway across the dance floor, he spins her back into his own arms, rocking her carefully side to side. As he contemplates his next move, he subconsciously determines the song that was currently making the hard wood beneath them shake.

"Please, Ally, please," he whispers down into her ear, watching her closed eyes flutter slightly before she squeezes them tighter shut and digs her teeth into her innocent lips. Nodding her head against his chest, he spins her out again so they'll actually be able to dance.

"You know I can't dance," she said desperately as she stared up at him with an empty gaze.

"You can keep a beat, right?"

"Of course," she reciprocates in an obvious tone.

"Well, that's all dancing comes down to really. Just different moves based off steadying yourself to the beat. Come on, sing it with me, and you'll be fine," he states, pulling her body closer to his own as he snaked his arm around her waist and ensnared her fragile hand in his own.

And that's just it. Their new friendship, partnership, whatever you label it, doesn't start with some magnificent, bold and daring retelling of the damsel in distress being saved by the handsome knight in shining armor. It doesn't start with a bang, with fireworks playing on their tongues because their lips were just _magically _drawn to each other. It didn't even start with some drunken confession of long term attraction, then them both laughing over the mistakes they made and how they are bound to make a few more. It didn't happen when they were in one another's arms earlier, when — in her opinion — it really should've. No, they are born again on the dance floor.

They twist and dive together, just as they did when they were teenagers. She's never been able to dance — he has always made sure to tell her in that snarky voice of his that she most likely never will — but she manages to for him, because he's just so etched into every last fiber of herself it'd seem impossible to not be here with him, spinning on her tip toes and softly mumbling out lyrics to all the songs that erupt from the fabric covered speakers near the DJ table. He likes to spin her out and then pull her back into his arms, because he likes knowing that he's the absolute only one in the room that has her full attention. He likes when she does that half squeal, half giggle that he once dubbed her trademark, as he whips her around in all those fast-paced dances, because he refuses to just sway back and forth to a rhythm instead of being swept up within one another's arms.

He can't fathom why only ten, maybe twelve people have joined them in their dancing frenzy. From experience — meaning the two short and dull weddings he had attended when he was still just a boy — he knew that once people began to open the floor, people would flock over to do all their wild and exotic moves. Really, he didn't mind, because he was so deeply and passionately engulfed in Ally to actually comprehend any other being around him, but he still found it quite peculiar that no one was jumping at the chance to reminisce and drink and just get back to all that good partying on the dance floor.

She had been in a dizzy, nothing state for a little over two years now. She'd tried to pull herself out of — really, she clawed a the surface of _actual_ life every day with a high demand to get back to that homey feeling of safety and security, or just plain old genuine happiness — whatever funk she had fallen into, but she'd come to terms with the fact that it couldn't be done with only one person fighting. It was hard for her, dragging someone else down to her level, but they always seemed to go so willingly; she remembers each look of sympathy as she let a single tear slip, begging desperately for them to hold her closer before the sobs took over for the night. Of course, she had turned to men; all the short, air headed, conceited, yet still empathetic men that her Broadway experience had to offer. They made her flush and float — all the things she deemed as a good sign — but they still didn't supply the empty need of compassion. More than half the time, she could tell they were looking through her; she wanted them to understand, and she took the time to explain it in the best possible way, but they never opened their ears long enough or wide enough to not only listen, but hear.

But she could still remember those happy, in between the lines days that seemed to blur together as time pressed on. She could remember how every single summer night, they all sat in Austin's Chevy pickup truck bed managing to find anything and everything to talk or laugh about, as Dallas drove them through the beautiful city known as Miami under the too bright stars. She remembers how easy it was to fall in love with Dallas, but how easy it was to hate him when she was with Austin. She could still taste the bitterness and fizzing of the very first beer she ever drank, and how she flushed so easily as her three best friends — because yes, she did count her brother as one of her best friends — gushed mockingly over the fact that she was not only becoming a party girl, but an under aged drinker as well. She can still smell the fresh rain sizzling on the pavement due to the thirst quenching heat, as they set up the only water proof camera any of them owned and splashed in all the puddles they could find as the blasted all of Trish's Blue October and The Fray albums. Simply put, she can still remember how she grew up with Austin Moon and how exactly he made her grow to love all the obnoxious and annoying imperfections he carried with him along the years — she can still remember how loving all his faults and just _all_ of him in secrecy made her the happiest girl in the world.

And it's funny, because even after all the silence and the separation and the pain and the tears and the time, she can still fall back into that habit of loving every bit of him after a few short songs and a glass of wine.

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Austin Moon was befuddled. He was stumped. He was, — oddly enough — hurt by that one girls — that one girl who makes his heart beat a million times a minute, that makes his mouth dry when she absentmindedly licks her lavishing lips, that one girl that always manages to drive him to the brink of insanity — antics. The antic of running away instead of facing the problem head on, the antic of bottling up what she was feeling or thinking instead of — like how she always appeared to do — just wearing her heart on her sleeve, and most importantly, the antic of making him fall so deeply and soundly in love with her even when their fates just don't seem to cross in the exact way that he so fiercely wishes they would.

All was well, it had seemed — that natural glow of hers was back as they chatted about life and their failed mishaps in love over the dinner, returning to the dance floor moments later to laugh endlessly over old time jokes, and even managing to squeeze in a few new ones. She had caught the bouquet of flowers Trish threw behind her back, running and jumping into his arms directly after to squeal over how it's always been a dream of hers to catch _something, _let alone something as monumental and meaningful as the bride's bouquet. She had stopped the nervous fumbling around while dancing, replacing it with the obvious talent of swaying her hips that she must have picked up somewhere along that crazy adventure she had on Broadway — the same crazy adventure, from what he could tell, broke her down into a million glass shards that were still in the process of being glued back together.

They were having fun when it happened, as well. He held her skinny waist close, drinking in all the alcohol fumes that were poorly concealed by spearmint gum — and that forever the same honey, vanilla, and cinnamon concoction that she always smelt of — while seductively whispering the lyrics of one of Ushers mega hits, 'DJ Got Us Fallen In Love Again' into her ear as she kept that continuously enchanting sway of her curvy figure.

Of course, though — just as the ice blue eyed blond had done in their earlier years, along with the nice jock that always had the same dimply smile and even tan — his first love had decided that in that moment — that magical moment where he could tell that the formerly shy songwriter was trembling under his grasp, on the verge of completely succumbing to his everlasting charm and kiss him back once he worked up enough courage to actually plant his own lips on hers — Cassidy had taken it upon herself to tear apart a perfectly perfect moment in time, stealing him away from the slightly shorter brunette and entrapping him in a hug.

Cassidy had complained about the noise, pulling him to the corner that coincidently held all her new college friends. She had hugged him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek as she began to gush over how she had missed him and how she was so devastated that their long distance relationship had fallen apart so quickly.

"We could go back to it, you know," she had said, the same mischievous glint in her eyes he had grown so accustomed to, "go back to us."

He made it clear to her that he had dated since their break up, that he had fully moved on and that attempting to have a civil conversation — let alone evening — after the heart break she had put him through wasn't appropriate. Pouting, she had asked him for at least the rest of the song to dance to, stating that she had never intended for their friendship to fall out as well.

He agreed with much annoyance, thinking of Ally and her delicate and formal style of dancing as Cassidy ground herself into him in a sultry fashion. Once the song finally came to an end, he slipped out of her grasp in a hurry, trying to find his way back over the dazzling caramel eyed girl.

Once he realized that not only had she vanished off the dance floor, but wasn't at the currently vacant table, he knew immediately that she had snuck off by herself. He knew that she had been desperate to frolic in the night air, outside in the gardens under the resplendent stars.

He had found her exactly where he guessed she would be; perched on the side of the white gazebo in the middle of the dew covered grass field, staring up the sky as tears traced down her cheeks. He had silently made his way up to her, clearing his throat once he felt that he was close enough.

She swung her legs over the side, getting on her feet once more as she brushed past him, walking slowly but swiftly in the direction of the bench near the edge of the pond. He had stopped her by forcefully grabbing her arm, spinning her — not in the light and careless way he had on the dance floor, but with determination and curiosity — around to face himself.

"Get away from me," she choked out, a new round of tears replacing the old. She gave him a shove, and strides once more away from him.

Grabbing her shoulders, he began his questioning with "What," only to be cut off again by her as she backed away from him in haste.

"You're not allowed to ask 'what'. Not when it's so clearly obvious," she had said as distant and icy as the blade of a knife.

Not giving him time to respond, she raged on, "I mean, really, Austin! Don't you freakin' see that I'm tired of being that girl that gets ditched for the perfect little beauty queen? Can't you see I'm tired of waiting and waiting for you to realize!" She had screamed, pushing him with all of her might at each dramatic extension of a word.

"Realize what!" He had shouted back, not feeling patient enough to try and keep his boiling emotions soothing and calm. "Realize that all you want to do is prance around, breaking every heart in sight? I listened to you at dinner, Ally! I heard you talking to Trish about all those actor boys you broke up with, just this past month!"

"Oh, really? And did you ever stop to think why, Austin! Did you ever stop and think over the fact that I'm so far down in a place that only you can reach, but I'm fighting so hard, trying so hard to find a substitute that might make me actually feel something! That I've been going through all this crap with college and my career and record labels and my parents' divorce and, god, so many other things! It's really hard when you don't have someone in your life that can make you feel—" she cuts off, biting down on her lip as she wiped her eyes.

"Make you feel what, Ally! Make you feel like you're the prettiest and most talented girl in the world? Well, I'm sorry, but there's always going to be someone who—"

"Make me feel like I'm worth something! Or, I don't know, make me feel like I'm actually alive!" She screamed at him, but then steadied herself before she went on a full on tangent. "Like I'm not that forgettable nobody that you always made me feel like, Austin," she whispered as she fell to the ground on her knees, no longer being able to support herself.

"Well, what if—" he's cut off again, only he doesn't really mind because he was just going to spit out random nonsense that would only make her more irritated.

"No, no, no! No more 'what ifs'! I have gotten way to many of those over the years! What if it doesn't work out? What if you don't like me as much as I like you? What if you break my heart? What if _I _break _your _heart? What if it hurts? What if it leaves a scar?" She mocks in once again a yelling tone, contorting her face as she sobs even harder.

"Yeah, well what if I never thought I was good enough for you!" He finally screams out, plummeting down next to her as he face palms himself. "What if I thought you deserved better than some conceited, mess of a dreamer?" he mumbled, keeping his gaze locked on anything but her.

Moving closer to him, she whispered back with her eyes closed tight, "And did you ever stop to think just for a second, that there might not be anyone better for me, than this mess of a dreamer?"

He goes to lay flat on his back, too, because he doesn't think he'll be able to manage thinking of those far away and unsure memories that she had just washed up; all those happy and carefree summer days, playing hide-and-go-seek in the mall, as if they were just children — only, even though at the time they would no doubt fight to the death that they were 'responsible and mature' teenagers, way back in those days, they _were_ still children. They were silly and naive children, trying to bite back smiles and countless sentences that consisted of three simple words that swallowed themselves whole, never making it to the surface. Dumb and reckless children that had fallen into the habit of ruining, just destroying anything that they could get their hands on even if they didn't realize that they were in fact breaking something without meaning too. Yes, that's all they were: children with big hearts and nothing to do with them, so they went along in their 'friend' ways until they just completely tore apart, suffocating one another into a thick blanket of silence that could only be blamed on time.

As quick and fast as their rebirth moments had come — those beautiful and harmonious minutes spent tangling up within one another on the dance floor, laughing until they were light headed and drinking until they couldn't see straight (oh, why were they so sober now?) — it had gone. She spent her time staring at the constellations, to afraid to ruin the barrier of quiet and emptiness that had risen between them. Everywhere seemed to hurt with her; her arms, her legs, her head, but most importantly, her heart. Oh, how her heart ached with so much sadness over the redundancy of the worlds actions, of _his_ actions. Her heart burned with passion and longing, so desperately wanted to rekindle anything she can with the man that had always proven himself to be a right mystery to her.

Once he reached a point where he couldn't remember a time when they weren't choking on the silence that rested uncomfortably between them, he stood up and pulled her unwilling form up to his as well.

"Give me at least one more dance, where we'll actually be by ourselves without anyone else cutting in," he had whispered down to her, pulling her close so he could snake his arms protectively over her frail waist.

She buried her tear stained face into his chest, letting him be her support for the time being. And, for once in his life, he was okay with the thought of having all these screaming hissy fights with her every day for the rest of his life, as long as when it was all said and done, she would end up right back in his arms, where they both knew she belonged. He didn't care that he was missing probably the most important night of his best friend's life, because he knew that Dez was as far gone into Trish as he was in Ally. He didn't have a second thought about keeping her out here, in the musky blackness where the crescent moon shone like a spotlight on the cliché pond that they danced next to, because he knew better than anyone else — and she didn't even have to tell him — that it was her dream to be held with all the love and adoration in the world under those stars that hung in the night sky. He made sure to sing along softly to the music they could faintly here from inside the building, to make sure she didn't fall too far into a land of peace and forgetfulness; the very last thing he wanted was for her to be so caught up in his nothingness that she would forget that he was making this huge, symbolic effort behind something as small as a slow dance.

And when he suddenly stopped the movement of his feet, she knew what that meant; that it was time to pry herself of his chest and look up into those mischievous and intoxicating hazel orbs of his that were sure to hold some sort of non-reassuring answer to one of her many questions.

He leaned down to press her rose colored lips against his own, both of them molding into — the very first of many to come, neither of them doubted — the kiss with all the fire and the love and the hate they had held in for the years they had known each other. She had spent a lot of time fantasizing — when she was younger and yes, when she was older — about their first kiss; all those butterflies and fireworks and just the sense of longing beneath his steadiness. Unlike the dissapointing moments — that she had dreamt about for far longer than she would care to admit — they had shared in their earlier encounters, however, this time reality was finally better than any scenario she had made.

And that's how they spent the rest of their night — prancing around after each other in a fit of giggles, him making empty threats of killing her as she squealed and sprinted off into the field of fireflies. Her doing triple spins on her very tip toes as he stood in awe and disbelief of her impeccable dancing talent that he had missed out on for the past few years. More than anything else, though, they kissed; they kissed in laughing fits and after long staring contests; after she caught three lightning bugs in row, claiming she owned him at capturing the bugs; they kissed in the middle of sentences; they kissed during every single one of those in between, quiet moments that felt hot and breathless; they kissed when they simply felt like it. Not once did either of them hesitate or resist, because they both knew that at this point in time — after all the stages of denial and lying through their teeth (and to themselves) — it was all they'd ever wanted, and it would actually be painful to not give in.

Ally Dawson had always been firmly opposed of believing that the happiest moments of your life lied in the future. She had always been sure that — since we always want what we can't ever have — all of the happiest moments you'll ever experience in your lifetime laid in your past. The past seemed always so crystal, so pure and innocent and unchangeable — her rock that kept her sane and reminded her that there was indeed one thing is this hectic world that would never shift or adjust or alter; it would stay the same because no one could go back and undo it. Only, here with Austin Moon — _her _Austin — she realized at all those elated and jubilant moments were to always be in the present. With the past, it'll only be another blurry memory that'll never bring you back all the warmth it once had; with the future, you could only guess and assume of what emotions you'll feel and how you'll react to them; oh, but in the present, you're so high up on cloud nine floating that you forget to watch where you'll end up falling. In the present, — in this new present of hers — all you can think to do is be happy. And for the first time in years, her love for Austin and his love for her only made her exactly that.

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A/N: so, I realize that I said I wasn't going to post till tommorow, but Fridays are always so busy and everyone seems to post, so I figured I'd be super nice and upagainst day early for you guys. Sorry for any mistakes, I will beta read when im back from camping. Leave me tons and tons of **review**s, will you? Thanks! :) **Disclaimer**.

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